The gates of the clean city didn’t open so much as they judged you.

  Two armored guards stepped forward the moment Rell and the owl approached. One had a sun-bleached clipboard. The other had a face that screamed “loves his job too much.”

  “Papers?” the guard asked, eyeing the tall silent figure.

  The owl fluffed her feathers.

  The owl fluffed her feathers. “No documents, but we have payment,” she answered smoothly.

  She slipped one birthstone into the guard’s palm — a smooth blue shard that glittered like it cost more than it did. The guard looked at it, then at them.

  A long pause.

  “...Fine. But next time, get travel tags. Go register — guildhouse is east square.”

  The owl chirped, “Understood.”

  They walked in like nothing happened.

  Rell took it all in — the white plaster walls, gold banners, everything clean and labeled.

  Rell’s thought: “This town look like a corporate fever dream. Like if someone gentrified a JRPG.”

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  The owl smirked.

  “Try not to say that out loud.”

  They passed street vendors and flower carts. People in matching colors. No shouting. No litter. No kids yelling in the street.

  Rell’s thought: “Whole place feel like the Stepford Wives reboot — jungle edition.”

  The guildhouse was a tall polished tower with stained windows and too many smiling faces. They didn’t go in yet. Rell needed air.

  So they wandered.

  Near the riverbank, the town quieted.

  Wind brushed the surface. A perfect breeze. It felt too peaceful.

  Which is why the commotion hit harder.

  Rell looked over — saw a girl in torn temple robes sprinting across the bridge, eyes wide, breath choked with panic. Royal guards followed, shouting orders.

  The girl saw Rell.

  Crashed right into him.

  “P-please!” the elf girl cried. “Don’t let them take me!”

  The guards stormed up moments later, panting.

  “Step aside. That’s church property. She’s a runaway,” one of the guards barked at the owl, ignoring Rell entirely.

  Rell looked at the girl again — saw the bruises, the fear. Something inside him burned cold.

  The owl hesitated as Rell’s eyes narrowed. Then she translated softly, “He says... no.”

  “What?” the guard blinked, confused by the response coming from the owl.

  “He said no again,” the owl clarified, voice calm but firm.

  The first guard reached out — and blacked out before his hand landed.

  The second barely blinked before his helmet hit the cobblestone.

  By the time the guards hit the ground, Rell was already gone.

  The elf girl in tow.

  They ducked into a laundry shed, one of the many lined along the merchant quarter. The owl landed on the rafters, eyes narrowed.

  “You lasted half a day.”

  Rell’s thought: “Not my fault this place got demon church energy and chase-down squads.”

  The elf girl clung to his sleeve.

  “They’ll kill me if they find me. I didn’t do anything… I swear... I just ran.”

  Rell didn’t let her finish.

  “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

  ---

  Back at the chapel...

  The priest’s hands trembled as he delivered the report.

  “The girl... she escaped. Guards down. With help.”

  Thessia listened, blade across her back, arms folded.

  “Let me guess,” she said. “You want it quiet. No alarms. Just results.”

  The priest nodded.

  “The item is... missing. And the girl is gone. She was last seen fleeing with a cloaked outsider.”

  Thessia turned to her crew.

  “Pack up.”

  *She smiled.*

  “Looks like we’re going hunting.”