The group had been on the road for nearly a month, the endless plains of the kingdom fading behind them as they neared their destination. The familiar, vast greenery of the land had given way to the looming presence of the city's walls. Adlet could feel the tightness in his chest as the stone structure drew closer, its towering height far more imposing than anything he had ever seen before.
It was hard to shake the feeling of being a small fish in an ocean—a feeling that had only intensified since Daven's casual remarks about this being his city. The walls stretched upward, their shadow a constant reminder that here, he was just another cog, insignificant in the face of the grand machine of the kingdom.
The guide, a confirmed Protector tasked with ensuring their safe arrival and introducing them to their commanding officer, kept a brisk pace, seemingly unfazed by the weight of their new surroundings. Adlet struggled to match his speed, his feet moving less decisively, as if the cobblestone streets were too wide, too foreign.
"This is nothing like the Dark Woods," he thought, his gaze moving from the towering walls to the sprawling city beyond. Unlike the thick, tangled forests he knew so well, the buildings here stood in sharp lines—brick and timber, their tiled roofs like a million little soldier's helmets, all aligned in perfect formation.
As they approached a great stone building, the emblem of the Protectors visible above the heavy oak doors, their guide turned, his stern face showing no signs of acknowledgment toward the newcomers.
"We've arrived, children. Welcome to Villa-Sylva, the main city of the region," he announced.
Daven sneered. "You should feel honored to set foot in my city, peasants."
Adlet kept his eyes ahead, but inside, the words stung. Daven's casual cruelty felt like a sharp reminder that no matter how much he'd accomplished at the Academy, he would always be an outsider, a mere nobody compared to those who had spent their lives on the edge of danger, surrounded by protectors, while he was just a farm boy from a quiet village with no legitimacy in their eyes.
The group waited in silence, the tension hanging between them like an unspoken challenge. When the doors opened again, it was not just their guide who stepped through but a tall man, his broad shoulders framed by a thick brown beard.
"Now that my duty is done, I'll leave you in the capable hands of your commander. Good luck," the guide said and left without another word.
Baryon Dryad—Adlet's new commander—was a man with a regal air. His noble bearing marked him as a figure far above anyone else in the room, his eyes cold and distant as he surveyed the group.
"Greetings, apprentice Protectors," Baryon said, his tone as indifferent as his gaze. "I'm Baryon Dryad, and I'll be leading this group during your stay here." His eyes lingered on Adlet, Florian, and Daven. "Two of you are unfamiliar with the region," he continued, his words clipped, "so we'll be delaying your mission until you've learned enough not to drag the group down."
Adlet could feel Baryon's disdain—a disdain that pierced through every word. It was clear that, to Baryon, they were little more than tools to be used, disposable at best.
Florian, ever eager, spoke up. "So you'll be teaching us what we need to know?"
Baryon's face darkened. "No. I don't have time for that," he replied curtly. "You'll find all you need in the Protectors' Guild library. Study for two weeks. Then, we depart."
Adlet's heart sank. Two weeks in this city, with nothing to do but study? How could he ever feel at home here, surrounded by stone and people who didn't see him as anything but a minor inconvenience?
"Thank you, Uncle," Daven said smoothly, his face lighting up with an air of familiarity.
Adlet's thoughts instantly fell into place. Daven and Baryon were family. Of course, he would be treated like this. It wasn't a matter of competence—it was about blood.
Baryon's cold, clipped farewell left no room for further exchange. The door shut behind him with a finality that stung Adlet's chest, as if the world itself was closing in on him.
"Hope you know how to read, peasants," Daven mocked. "Otherwise, you won't last."
Adlet didn't bother to respond. He had grown used to Daven's cruelty, but it didn't make it any less painful to endure.
With a final sneer, Daven stalked off, leaving Adlet and Florian standing in silence.
"What a jerk," Florian muttered under his breath.
"Nothing new there. Let's go find the library," Adlet replied, though his heart wasn't in it. This was his new reality now: the oppressive city, the distant nobles, the ever-present feeling of being too small to matter. But at least, in the library, he could find something—anything—that might give him a sense of purpose.
The library was even more overwhelming than the rest of the city. Its high stone walls and dark wooden shelves seemed to swallow the light, casting the space in a somber gloom. Adlet wandered between the shelves, his fingers brushing over ancient leather-bound books. Most of them, though, offered little more than dry, unhelpful reports about the kingdom's history and lists of Protectors who had come and gone.
As time passed, frustration began to gnaw at him. "Nothing here... nothing useful..." he thought, his mind growing heavier with every empty page he turned.
Then, at the far end of the library, a figure sat hunched over a desk, his nose buried in a thick book. Adlet's first instinct was to leave him be—after all, he was clearly absorbed in his research. But then something about the man's energy caught his attention. He didn't have the same aloof air that Baryon or Daven had. This man seemed different—curious, passionate.
"Excuse me," Adlet said, trying his best to speak softly. "I'm looking for information about the local creatures. Do you know where I can find it?"
The man didn't respond, so Adlet tried again, louder this time.
"Excuse me!"
The man jumped, his book slipping from his hands and crashing to the floor. He glanced up at Adlet, irritation flashing briefly in his eyes before it softened.
"You shouldn't shout in a library, young man…" he muttered, clearly annoyed but not entirely hostile. "Anyway, can I help you?"
Adlet hesitated, unsure of how to approach him. "I'm an apprentice Protector," he said softly, "I was sent here to learn about the local creatures before we go on a mission. Do you know where I can find that information?"
The man's eyes brightened at the mention of creatures, his previously cold demeanor melting away. "Well... truth be told, I don't know this library very well myself. I'm just here for some research of my own."
Adlet's disappointment must have been visible, because the man suddenly smiled, warm and open.
"Come now, don't give up just yet," he said. "You remind me of my son—always quick to throw in the towel. But don't worry. We'll find what you're looking for." The man paused, his eyes twinkling with interest. "By the way, what's your Guardian?"
Adlet blinked. "Why do you want to know?"
The man leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "I study Apexes. That's my research. And trust me, when it comes to Apexes, there's no such thing as age, status, or nobility. Everyone's equal. So, what's your Guardian?"
"Mine's a Dark Beetle," Adlet replied, intrigued by the man's intensity.
The man's eyes widened, an excited gasp escaping him. "A Dark Beetle? Fascinating! I've never heard of one before!" he exclaimed before catching himself. "Sorry, I... I got carried away. This is just the first time I've ever heard of a new species."
Adlet blinked, somewhat taken aback by the enthusiasm. It was strange—this man wasn't like the others. He didn't look at Adlet like he was small or unimportant. Instead, it was as if he saw him as an equal, as someone who could contribute to his work.
"I have a proposal," the man said suddenly, his voice low. "I'll help you find the information you need about the local creatures if you let me run some tests on your beetle. What do you say?"
Adlet stared at the man, his mind racing. He knew that revealing the full truth about his Guardian was dangerous—too many eyes were watching, and secrecy was essential—but... perhaps this man was someone who could help.
"Deal," Adlet said, extending his hand. "I'm Adlet."
"Niccolo," the man replied eagerly, shaking his hand with surprising strength. "You won't regret this!"
Adlet wasn't sure what the future held, but at least in this strange, confusing city, he had found someone who saw him for who he truly was—not just a nameless Protector, but a person with something to offer.