“I’m going out.”

  A grunt was all he got in response, and Rayne suppressed a sigh, wary of starting another fight as he exited the house. To say that things had been frosty between him and Issa in the wake of their confrontation would be putting it mildly. Though she had returned home later that night, they had barely exchanged a word since. Every time they tried, it inevitably devolved into a shouting match, where both sides attempted to prove they were right, with volume as the decider.

  Actually, that wasn’t true. They had had one productive conversation. It was the day after their argument. Instead of shouting at him, Issa had sat him down and told him that she would allow him to adventure, but he needed to make sure he was doing it right. Apparently, that meant training, investing in proper gear, and whatever else he could do to ensure his safety.

  Unfortunately, her use of the word allow had caused Rayne to get defensive, and their discussion had devolved into the first of many shouting matches. But it had been a start. And more importantly, it had shown her willingness to let him adventure. The question that remained was: if she was fine with him adventuring, then why was she still getting on his case?

  She wants you to apologize. The answer was obvious, but Rayne stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. From his perspective, he might be in the wrong, but so was she. He was just doing what he had to in order to keep her at the Academy. Yes, he had lied, but that didn’t mean she needed to act like he had committed some unforgivable sin.

  If she could just admit that she had overreacted… With a sigh, Rayne attempted to push the thoughts from his mind. It would do him no good to dwell on the growing rift in their relationship, especially as an adventurer. This was one thing Syra had made sure to instill in him. Too many errant thoughts were poison in a fight, and could easily cause errors that he could ill afford to make.

  Try as he might, Rayne could not keep his thoughts from spiraling, and it was a very sullen Rayne that greeted Syra as she arrived at the guildhall, ready to start the day’s adventuring.

  With a slight lift of the eyebrow, she admonished him, but blessedly, she did not say anything else. They’d had a conversation about it the day after his fight with Issa, where she had bluntly informed him that so long as it was not interfering with their work, she did not care to dig into his personal life.

  Rather than ask him what was up, for the answer was likely written plainly on his face, she instead glanced at the job board. “Anything good today?”

  With a grunt, Rayne shook his head. “Not really. Some merchant wants two guards for their guildhall today, and is willing to pay decently, but that’s about it. No goblins, banivs, or gathering missions.”

  “And did you grab that guard mission?”

  Rather than respond, Rayne reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of parchment, which he slapped down on the table for Syra to see. Unfolding it, she took a quick look at the contents and then nodded.

  “Seems good enough. If we’re going to sit around all day, then we might as well get paid to do it.”

  And so it was that Rayne found himself standing in the market, sword at his hip, with the afternoon sun beating down upon him. Between them, the door to the Hopespur Merchant Guild stood tall, emblazoned with their crest in bright gold paint, enchanted to resist the weather.

  Neither he nor Syra wore their usual armor, but had instead been given platemail and tabards bearing the guild crest to wear. It made them stand out, but it was also damnably hot, and Rayne cursed himself for taking the job. Apart from their swords they also carried halberds, similar to those carried by the gate guards of Torid, but with slightly larger and more impressive axe heads that affected the weapon’s balance. It was clearly a weapon meant for display, but Rayne did not doubt that it would serve to dispatch some miscreant in a pinch. Not that it would come to that hopefully.

  The Hopespur merchant guild were hosting an event of some sort today, and many distinguished merchants and nobles were in attendance. About half an hour after their arrival, not long after they’d been stuffed into this over-hot armor and been handed the unbalanced halberds, guests had started to arrive.

  Despite the importance of those in attendance, both he and Syra were under strict orders not to react. No matter who they saw, they were to remain stone faced, staring straight forward like a pair of living gargoyles. It was boring as sin, but the pay was decent, and Rayne couldn’t really complain, even if the heat was verging on unbearable. Just another hour or so, and the sun would descend to the point that the shadow it cast would cover them. Then he might gain some relief…

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  With nothing better to do, Rayne’s thoughts wandered. He had spent the last few years working in this market, and nothing had changed in the last few weeks. From here, he could spy his old place of work, the steps to the registrar’s office tucked just around the corner from where they stood. The fruit stalls, the various vendors, the urchins running underfoot. Everything was just as it had been. Only he had changed.

  “Copper for your thoughts?” Syra’s voice penetrated his thoughts, pulling him from his reverie.

  She did not look at him, continuing to obey their employer’s command to stare straight ahead, and she had spoken lowly, so as not to be overheard. Not that it would have mattered. The noise coming from within the merchant guild was not at the level of making a din, but it was boisterous enough that they should have no trouble paying him for the day’s labor.

  Taking a second to collect his scattered thoughts, Rayne shuffled, doing his best to ease the discomfort of standing around in what was essentially a steel furnace. “Just personal matters,” he replied at last.

  “Your sister?” Syra asked sharply, immediately seeing through his weak charade.

  Rayne hesitated for a moment. “Yes.”

  “You still haven’t patched things up with her?”

  Gritting his teeth, Rayne stared straight forward, his eyes fixated on a cabbage stall owner whose wares had just spilled all over the street. “No,” he said at last.

  “What does she want anyways? Like, I get that she’s mad, but it’s been a few days now. Shouldn’t you two have made up by now?”

  “She wants me to pay for better gear, and to get myself some proper training,” Rayne replied stiffly. “As if I can afford that.”

  “Sounds like investing in yourself.” Syra shrugged. “It’s a good call. Most proper adventurers do the same. Can’t work if you’re laid up in bed with a goblin spear lodged in you. Good armor will pay for itself.”

  Resisting the urge to shake his head, Rayne attempted to shut her down. “That sounds nice and all, but I need every copper right now. For Issa to stay at the Academy, I need to come up with eight gold in the next four months. If I can’t do that, she’ll have to drop out, and who knows if they’ll allow commoners back in by the time I can pay, or if tuition will rise again.” He clenched his fist, feeling his nails dig into his palms as the rage coursed through him. “She’s worked too hard and too long for me to let her down here. I have to get that money. No matter what it takes.”

  “And are you meeting that goal?”

  Rayne blinked. “Sorry?”

  “Like…” Syra hesitated. “Sorry, I’m not great at this. But like, will you be able to get that much gold in time? Have you been earning at a…” She faltered here, visibly grasping for her next words.

  “Rate?” Rayne offered.

  She snapped her fingers at him, an impressive feat in gauntlets. “That’s the word. Have you earned at a rate that will let you pay for her schooling?”

  “I have,” Rayne acknowledged. “But it’s tight. Between food, rent, and general expenses, I’m barely making it. But yeah, I’ve managed to save what I need so far.”

  “Then it sounds like you have the money to pay for training.” Syra glanced at him. “Honestly, Rayne, it’s a good idea. She’s your sister and she cares for you. You’re always going on about doing things safely. Why not invest in yourself, and give your sister a win at the same time? You’ll make more money once we advance to silver-tier anyways, and we can also take on tougher commissions if you become stronger. It’s a win-win.”

  “But I don’t have the money!” Rayne nearly shouted, only remembering to control his volume at the last second. The din inside was loud, but their employer had been quite explicit on how he expected them to behave while on guard, and he had no desire to lose out on a commission because he could not control his temper.

  “Why not try to find ways to get some of that stuff without money?” Syra asked, studying him carefully as she too lowered her voice.

  Rayne turned to look at her. “I’m listening,” he said guardedly.

  She shrugged. “Plenty of people who need stuff done. And adventurers aren’t the brainiest. You went to the Academy. You’re good with numbers and figuring out what people want. Put some of that to use.” She looked thoughtful. “That noble guy. Lianne or whatever. Hasn’t he been trying to start a training class?”

  Rayne paled. “You want me to take lessons from Leon?”

  She grinned. “Why not? Say what you want about his personality, but he has skills. We saw that at the initiation. And besides”—her grin grew wider—“he’s gotten zero bites so far. The man must be desperate.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Rayne replied warily.

  Grin still firmly in place, Syra turned her gaze forward once again. Doing the same, Rayne attempted to focus on the job, but her words tumbled within his mind. Like it or not, Syra’s suggestion had merit. And Leon did not seem like the most world-savvy type. If he could persuade the man to give him free training, then the savings could go to getting better gear, which would put him back into Issa’s good graces.

  Yes, the more Rayne thought about it, the more he liked the idea. It would require some proper planning, and an appropriate offer for the uppity would-be noble to accept him without the need for tuition, but he was confident that he could pull it off. And maybe then Issa would talk to him again.